considering pictures | sean justice > open journal

in my dream i'm dreaming that i'm taking notes about a dream. mirror phase. no one in the boardroom notices because they're too busy listening to my blah blah. take it down. mimo. this feels like a memory. something is dripping. phase. in my dream i'm interpolating. does more of me mean less of you? it bites again. remorse. i wish i wish. the record wipes it clean and i'm waking in a world of surface disturbances. why does loss and laughter sample the same? here's the fantasy.

this lake sits in a basin carved by glaciers. on a clear day i can follow the round granite against the sky and feel the weight of more than a mile of ice. today that ancient surface is eroded and smothered with weeds and trees. no trace remains of that clean surface scoured smooth 10,000 years ago. that surface isn't smooth now. that surface isn't visible anymore. there's a new surface now. ripples of wind skip across it. pre-phase ice rolls around the basin and we row across it, swim under it, delightful in the rain and clouds. Mt Rushmore is being restored today on the news. if the ice comes and scours the surface clean again, what pictures will we make?

i'm whispering: what is a picture. i'm not all that interested in buttons, but i will i promise help you find the right ones. my heart strays toward conversation and my feet toward history. is a picture a technology? or is a picture the motivation toward technology? or something else. can you feel it. open. on the job last week one of the big whigs waltzed on set and announced that all buttons had been removed from all pillows because people can choke to death on buttons. liability. we'll have none of that. we had to reshoot. this is new: buttons can kill. so, can we imagine a world without buttons? do we want to? what does an artist do? i'll show you the buttons you need and point out the pathway towards the buttons you want. can we also linger among the pictures for a bit as we go?

on a warm day soho sticking to my shirt i want to get this conversation started. i don't know if it can work. can we whisper can we sneer can we talk? i want to hear you. on a warm day i remember thinking yesterday, what is a picture? in the space between this breath and the next i wonder can you hear me?

lane Originally uploaded by seanjustice . patterns overlay. a trail becomes a path becomes a lane becomes a road becomes a street becomes a boulevard becomes a right of way becomes a superhighway. can you walk across? earlier this evening i watched my sons play Yugioh, a complicated card game with a varied deck of monsters and heros with scaleable positions of defense and attack. each player draws from a private deck, in turn, and lays down a card, face up, face down, side-ways, vertical. each card affects other cards according to an arcane calculus of cause-effect. certain cards allow the player to scramble the deck of the opposing player, or steal cards from him. each turn has a numerical consequence, plus or minus points, which are calculated on the fly, without notes, by negotiation. 2400 points, 1000 points, minus 2450 points, plus 500 points, you lose. you win. is this a technology? what efficiency is enhanced? what work is accomplished? is this not a technology? is ...

we're talking about pipes and we're having fun though everyone thinks i might be a psycho nut

hosed Originally uploaded by seanjustice . the image, the lens, the shadow. am i mistaken am i lost am i wandering i am wandering. this is fun.

princest_21 Originally uploaded by seanjustice . we walked out together. what are we going to do this time around. welcome back.